


Tongues Battling for Dominance

by stardropdream



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Awkward Kissing, Established Relationship, Insecure Keith (Voltron), Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Kissing, M/M, Season/Series 07, Shiro (Voltron) is a Good Boyfriend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-21
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2020-10-25 13:07:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20724689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardropdream/pseuds/stardropdream
Summary: But then Lance says, “And don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll get better at the whole kissing thing once you get more practice.”Keith looks back up at him, incredulous. “What?”Lance looks at him expectantly, silent for a beat too long. Keith just stares.“… Oh,” Lance says, with such deep judgement and pity that it’s a miracle he manages to convey both through just one exhale. “Shiro hasn’t said anything?”Keith and Shiro are in a brand new relationship and everything isperfect. Except, apparently, Keith's kissing skills.





	Tongues Battling for Dominance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hymnaria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hymnaria/gifts).

> Fic request from [Alexei](https://twitter.com/hymnaria), who asked for Keith being an objectively bad kisser, Shiro being too smitten to realize, and Lance trying to be supportive. (And credit to [Spifty](https://twitter.com/spiftynifty) for the original prompt on this one.) 
> 
> A huge thank you to both [Saasan](https://twitter.com/decidedlysarah) and [Abbey](https://twitter.com/sepiacigarettes) for looking this over for me!
> 
> Shout-out to everyone on twitter who absolutely did NOT discourage me from making this the title. Look what you've done.

The first time Keith kisses Shiro, he doesn’t even have to think about it: it’s _Shiro_, after all. As soon as Shiro smiles and whispers, _Keith, of course I love you, too_, it’s all over for Keith—

All he can do is kiss Shiro. 

His hands scramble over Shiro’s shoulders— torn between shoving him against the wall or grabbing him and yanking him closer. He doesn’t even think. He throws his arms around Shiro and accidentally clips his ear, but Shiro seems to like it if the little gasp of surprise he makes is any indication. Keith doesn’t really stop to think about it, shivering at the feeling of Shiro’s arm wrapping around his waist and tethering him close. He forgets to be gentle. He forgets everything in his desire to get closer to Shiro. 

They kiss and they kiss and _they kiss._ And god, it’s perfect. Keith’s wanted this for so long, and he can feel Shiro’s smile pressing against his mouth, and Keith feels like he’s going to start crying at any moment, so overwhelmed and in love and _happy._

“I love you,” he whispers when he pulls back from the kiss, just to say it, just to hear Shiro say it back again. 

Shiro cups his cheek, thumb sliding along the burned edge of his scar and murmurs, “I love you, Keith.” 

Keith shivers and pushes in close again to keep kissing him, daring to lick into Shiro’s mouth. Shiro takes a breath and then melts against him, whispering Keith’s name as he kisses him back. And it’s perfect. Keith’s never been happier. 

He sinks against Shiro with a sigh, unsure what to do with his hands or with his breath and not really caring beyond being as close to Shiro as humanly possible. He shivers when Shiro licks into his mouth, when he feels the briefest tug of Shiro’s teeth against his lip. Keith clings tight to the back of Shiro’s neck and mimics him, aware of the blissful feeling of Shiro’s tongue in his mouth, his hand on his hip, the ghost of his breath. He swallows every little sound and sigh Shiro makes, barely holding back his giddy grin. 

“I _love_ you,” Keith mumbles mid-kiss, nearly biting Shiro’s tongue because of it. 

“Yeah, Keith. Yeah,” Shiro sighs and kisses him harder, holding Keith tight. “Love you.” 

Keith could do this for hours. He’s pretty sure he_ does _do this for hours, just pressing full-bodied to Shiro in a bunk inside the Black Lion, their legs tangling together, just feeling the steady rise and fall of Shiro’s chest beneath him. He chews on Shiro’s bottom lip and slides his tongue into Shiro’s mouth. Shiro sighs, hand tangling up in Keith’s hair and cradling him close, leaving him breathless. 

It’s perfect. 

Later, once they come up for air and Keith begrudgingly goes to pilot Black, he tugs Shiro along with him only to push him down first into the pilot’s chair so he can climb after him. He straddles Shiro’s lap and kisses him and kisses him and kisses him. He never wants to stop, already addicted to the feeling of Shiro’s mouth pressed against his, sharing breath and happiness at once. Now that he gets to do this, he can’t imagine doing anything else. 

“You’re going to have to pilot eventually,” Shiro teases, voice soft and warm as he presses sloppy kiss after sloppy kiss to the line of Keith’s jaw. Keith closes his eyes, luxuriating in the feeling, wanting nothing more than to just focus on this. 

“Later,” he answers and bites down hard on Shiro’s bottom lip, dragging a sharp, pleased sigh from Shiro’s throat. He pets his fingers through Shiro’s hair, pushing it away from his face and slanting their mouths back together. 

And later, much later, yes, maybe he finally pilots Black properly, but only because Shiro, still fresh in his new body, starts to look sleepy, his otherwise enthusiastic kisses turning sluggish. He stays in the pilot’s seat with Keith, at least, tucking his head into Keith’s neck, dozing as Keith haphazardly grips Black’s controls and thinks about all the other things he wants to do to Shiro, once they have the time. 

And they do. They have all the time in the world. Keith never would have guessed he could be as happy as this. 

He nuzzles into Shiro’s hair, smiling as his best friend, his _boyfriend_, gives a sleepy murmur in response, and knows that everything is perfect. 

-

“Sooooo,” Lance says in lieu of greeting, dropping to sit beside Keith and trailing off meaningfully. 

Keith can guess Lance is probably wriggling his eyebrows at him, not that Keith looks up from his food to confirm. Hunk tentatively calls tonight’s dinner taco salad, but Keith’s on the fence about whether this bowl of mushy green something can count as a taco salad. And he’d rather contemplate mysterious food than Lance’s face, really. 

He can feel Lance waiting for acknowledgement, though. This is what he gets for leaving his Lion for mealtime when he _could_ be spending the better part of the evening cuddling up with Shiro and enjoying some uninterrupted non-flying time. 

Figures that as the leader of their group now, he’s expected to appear for campfire dinner time with the rest of the Paladins, while Shiro gets to cite convenient sleepiness to take a nap instead. Not that Shiro doesn’t deserve to rest. 

With a sigh, Keith finally looks up at Lance. “What do you want?” 

Lance perks up when he’s finally acknowledged, ignoring Keith’s less than enthusiastic tone. “So, the team couldn’t help but notice the whole… thing you and Shiro are doing.” 

“Huh?” Keith asks, ceasing his incessant stirring. He blinks at Lance. 

“You know. Your thing.”

Keith continues to stare at him. It’s been a few days since he and Shiro started dating— if it can be called that when they’re en route to Earth on a universe-saving mission, really, and what counts as dating so far has basically just been vigorous making out— and they haven’t made any formal announcement to the other Paladins yet. He has no damn idea how Lance and the others could know already. 

“Oh, don’t be coy,” Lance says, rolling his eyes. “You’ve forgotten to turn Black’s comms off at least three times now and, let me tell you, faceless kissing sounds is _not_ sexy, especially when you know the source.” Keith’s face flames a bright red as Lance continues, “And anyway, pretty sure we’ve all seen you two making out now and it’s only been, what, a day?” 

“Five days,” Keith mutters, not that he’s been counting. Almost a full week of blissful requited love with Shiro. Keith still feels very moony about it. Just thinking about going back into Black and pressing himself down against Shiro and kissing him awake leaves him all giddy. 

“So, yeah, your thing.” 

“We’re in love,” Keith protests, somewhat petulantly. Reducing what he and Shiro have to a _thing_ feels far too dismissive for how cosmically and fully Keith loves Shiro.

Lance makes a face but presses onward. “Anyway, my point is, we’re all happy for you. You know, got our blessing?” 

Keith nods, unable to disguise his suspicious glance. As if Keith ever really cared about getting anybody’s approval when it came to being with Shiro. Not that he isn’t happy to know their friends are glad for them. 

He looks back down at his bowl, stirring it again, figuring the conversation is over. 

But then Lance says, “And don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll get better at the whole kissing thing once you get more practice.” 

Keith looks back up at him, incredulous. “What?”

Lance looks at him expectantly, silent for a beat too long. Keith just stares.

“… Oh,” Lance says, with such deep judgement and pity that it’s a miracle he manages to convey both through just one exhale. “Shiro hasn’t said anything?” 

“Said what?” 

“Dude,” Lance says, still looking pitying. “You’re a really, really bad kisser.” 

If Keith’s cheeks felt warm before, it’s nothing compared to now. His shoulders hunch towards his ears and, suddenly, all he wants to do is run away and hide inside Black. Or punch Lance. Maybe both. 

Keith likes to think that two years on a space whale have made him more patient and made him prepared for leadership in a way nothing else could, but stepping off Black earlier to get dinner, he never would have thought he’d be _here_ having _this_ conversation. 

“How would you know?” Keith snaps. No hope of being patient now. “You haven’t seen us kiss.”

“Uhhhh, how about just now, when you two were making out against Black’s paw? Shiro pulled away with a wet chin, Keith. A wet chin! That’s not normal!” 

Keith gives a small squawk of protest, eyes widening. 

“You’re all tongue and no finesse,” Lance continues, absolutely brutal now that he’s gotten started. “I’m just saying… don’t be a puppy, you know? You don’t _have_ to give Shiro a tongue bath!” 

Keith throws down his bowl of not-quite-taco-salad and glares at Lance. He can only be grateful nobody else is present for this painfully embarrassing conversation. 

Or maybe it’s a bad thing, since there’s nobody here to hold Keith back from murdering Lance. 

“Dude, don’t get defensive!” Lance protests, as if there could be any other reaction Keith could have to hearing he’s a bad kisser from perpetual virgin Lance. “It’s just— objectively? Not so great. But I mean, nobody’s great when they first start out. Shiro’s the first person you’ve kissed, right? You’ll get better.” 

“If I was really so bad,” Keith snaps, “Shiro would have told me by now.” 

Lance snorts. “Yeah, right, like Shiro’s going to say anything that’s going to upset you, especially when it’s something sensitive.” 

He does have a point. Keith feels himself wilt. If the situation were reversed, Keith’s not sure how he’d manage to tell Shiro he was a bad kisser. But, Shiro _isn’t_ a bad kisser, not by a long shot. He’s a god, as he is in all things, and every time Shiro deigns to kiss him, Keith feels both breathless and weak-kneed. 

The idea that Shiro doesn’t feel the same when Keith kisses him is more upsetting than Keith wants to admit. 

He must look depressed because Lance grunts and gives him a vaguely sympathetic look. He even pats Keith on the shoulder, at least up until Keith slaps his hand away, still feeling too brittle to accept any sort of kissing-related condolences. 

Anyway, there’s no proof that anything Lance is saying is true. He can’t let stupid Lance ruin the good thing going with Shiro, in any case. 

“What am I doing wrong, then?” Keith finally asks, if only to humor the idiot. “Not that I’m saying I agree with you.” 

“I dunno,” Lance says, with the tone of someone who _does_ know. “You got the thirsty dog thing going on.” 

“The—” 

“You know, using Shiro’s mouth like a dog bowl?” Lance elaborates. “And like, when you get the tongue in there looks like you’re just swirling it around and doing nothing else.” 

Lance starts to demonstrate, tongue wagging in the open air like a maniac. 

“Stop!” Keith squawks. Keith slaps a hand over Lance’s mouth and gets a lick to the palm for his trouble. 

Wrinkling his nose, Keith yanks his hand back and wipes it on his pants. 

“Fuck, how closely are you even watching us kiss?” Keith grunts, face all twisted up. “Stop freaking me out!” 

“I’m just trying to help! You gotta switch it up, man!” 

“I hardly need _your_ help,” Keith snaps. “It’s not like I’m _thinking about it_ when I’m kissing him! I’m just… I’m just kissing him!” 

“There’s your problem! You’ve got no finesse! Make it romantic, you newbie!” Lance rolls his eyes again. “Shiro’s a _catch_. You gotta keep him hooked with some quality kissing.” 

“Shiro would love me even if I was a shitty kisser,” Keith snaps. “I don’t need to ‘keep him hooked’!” 

“Exactly my point,” Lance moans, like Keith’s the biggest idiot around. “He’d like you no matter what, but shouldn’t you be trying to make it good for him? Don’t be a selfish lover, Keith.” 

Keith feels his hands clench at his side. “Ugh, fuck this,” Keith says, jumping to his feet. “I don’t have to listen to you being all— weird about the way me and Shiro kiss! We’re doing just fine! Stop staring at us!” 

He needs to leave before he shoves Lance into the fire or something equally as traumatizing for the rest of the team, who haven’t gotten back from either collecting firewood or napping on their Lions. But he’s sure Lance’s shrieks as he’s brutally murdered would bring them running. Maybe. Lance _does_ shriek a lot. 

Keith turns and starts stomping away. 

“Yeah, good talk, buddy!” Lance calls after him. Keith grits his teeth. “All I’m saying,” Lance shouts, “is just practice with your fist like the rest of us!” 

Keith stomps his way onto Black, hungry still and, pathetically, feeling like crying. He feels frazzled, embarrassed, and downright _mortified_. If _Lance_ has noticed this, who else has? He can’t possibly be that awful, can he? 

Instead of running to Shiro like he wants, he stomps his way to the cockpit and drops down into the pilot’s seat, curling up with his knees towards his chest. He ducks his face against his legs, just trying to even his breathing out. 

He’ll need to do the leader-y thing and apologize to Lance later, even if he doesn’t particularly feel like apologizing or like he’s done anything wrong. But in the meantime, he feels that seed of doubt plant itself in his chest. 

Lance is right. If Keith were bad at kissing, Shiro wouldn’t have said something. And Shiro _is_ the first person he’s ever kissed— he has no way of knowing if he’s any good or not. 

“Fuck,” he whispers to himself. 

-

The Paladins aren’t set to leave until the morning, once the Lions are fully recharged, but Keith can’t get any rest. He sits in the bunk he’s been sharing with Shiro for the past five days and watches Shiro shed the last of his armor and crawl in to sit beside him, his smile sweet and just a little sleepy despite the long nap he’s already taken through dinner. 

“Were you okay today?” Keith asks, brushing the hair away from Shiro’s forehead, more for the sake of touching him than anything else. “The others missed you this afternoon.” 

He knows it’s Shiro’s habit to isolate when he’s recovering. The fact that he’ll let himself be vulnerable in front of Keith is something Keith cherishes. He offers the support and can only hope Shiro doesn’t feel condescended to. 

Shiro nods, his smile gentle as he looks at Keith. “I missed them, too. I think once I can stay awake longer, it’ll be better.” He sighs. “I feel more like myself every day. I think being around everyone helps… being around you.” 

Keith’s stomach goes all squirmy and he can’t help his answering smile. He drops his hand from Shiro’s hair so he can curl his arm around his shoulders instead and nuzzles into Shiro’s chest, cuddling up with a relieved sigh. 

“Good. That’s good, Shiro.” 

Shiro responds with a low hum and noses into Keith’s hair, enthusiastically returning the cuddles. His one hand skirts down Keith’s back and then up again, curling into his hair and tugging gently, soft enough to pull a soft purr from Keith’s throat. 

Just like every night before this, they cuddle close, just holding each other. With his ear pressed to Shiro’s chest, Keith relaxes with the steady beat of Shiro’s heart. He looks up at Shiro, smiling. This, too, is like every night before— he sees the moment Shiro’s eyes go soft and hooded, when he tugs playfully on Keith’s hair enough to angle him. He starts to lean down to kiss Keith. 

It’s a gentle kiss, as their first ones of the night always are. Shiro’s lips are closed but as he slants his mouth against Keith’s, there’s the tease of his tongue, a hint of a deepening kiss. Shiro is a comforting weight against him, his big hand cradling the back of Keith’s head, his lips so soft and so kissable. 

Keith breathes out and opens his mouth to him, hooking his arms around Shiro’s shoulders and anchoring him close, returning the kiss with his typical enthusiasm. He pushes Shiro gently onto his back and goes with him, rolling them so they’re pressed side-by-side, stretched out in the bunk.

It’s a good kiss. It should be a good kiss. 

Except now instead of melting into Shiro’s attention and luxuriating in his kisses, Keith’s thinking about what Lance said. He tries to banish it away and focus on kissing Shiro instead.

Only he can’t. 

Keith can’t even fully appreciate Shiro kissing him. Are his lips too chapped? Too dry? Too wet? Where should he put his hands? Is it bad if he starts breathing during the kiss? How much tongue is too much tongue? Should he be flowing with Shiro’s or trying to rub up against it? God, he’s making it sound completely unsexy in his brain and it’s all fucking Lance’s fault. He _should_ be enjoying the pressing of skin against skin and instead he can only hear Lance’s stupidly cheerful, _You’ll get better with practice!_

He’s too aware of his tongue, sliding against Shiro’s. His mouth feels too wet. Their lips aren’t pressed together right. He probably just licked Shiro’s chin. Or, worse, he’s just drooling into Shiro’s mouth, and now that he thinks about it, kissing is just a weird swapping of salvia and shouldn’t Shiro think he’s gross? 

Keith’s in agony. 

And, of course, sweet and wonderful and gentle Shiro notices the tension in Keith’s shoulders almost immediately. He draws away, pushing up onto his elbow so he hovers above Keith, his expression pinched in concern.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” he whispers and the pet name sets Keith on fire. All he wants to do is yank Shiro down and lay worship to his mouth, but now he’s petrified of fucking it up. 

“I’m…” He nearly tells Shiro that he’s fine but bites the denial back. He sighs. “Sorry. I’m kind of stuck in my head.” 

Shiro hums, his damn kissable mouth teasing at a morbid smile. “I know that feeling. Want to talk about it?” 

“No. Not really.”

Keith lifts his hand, petting his thumb along Shiro’s cheek. It prompts Shiro’s smile to turn so much gentler, his expression softening as he stares down at Keith like he’s the entire world. It makes Keith feel all loopy and ridiculous and happy all over again, his internal drama aside. He brushes his thumb over Shiro’s bottom lip just to feel the swell of it, the gentle hush of Shiro’s breath against his thumbprint. 

“I love you,” he whispers and Shiro’s smile grows. 

He’s never going to get tired of saying it. And more importantly, he’s never going to get tired of the way Shiro looks every time he says it. 

“Love you, too, baby,” Shiro murmurs, and god, that’s as devastating as hearing ‘sweetheart’. Keith might make a soft sound, stomach squirming, which just makes Shiro smile more— soft and sweet, but just a touch knowing. He leans in closer, whispering, “Baby.” 

Keith groans and tilts his head as Shiro presses in for a kiss so that Shiro nuzzles at his chin instead. Shiro accepts the misdirection in stride, trailing kisses down Keith’s neck. Keith sighs, just focusing on that. He can do this. He loves Shiro, loves the feeling of their bodies pressed together, the slide of Shiro’s mouth against his skin. He loves everything about Shiro and everything Shiro wants to give him. 

He should not be thinking about Lance and his stupid fucking concern when he’s in bed with the love of his life. For fuck’s sake. 

Keith grunts and groans angrily. 

Shiro pulls back again, concerned. “Don’t like that?” 

“No, god, I love it,” Keith sighs, frustrated. “Sorry. I’m just… I can’t really explain it.” 

Shiro’s hand is gentle as it combs through Keith’s hair, brushing it back from his face and tucking loose strands behind his ear. The simplicity of the gesture makes Keith want to cry. Shiro’s smile is sweet, as always, and stupidly understanding considering Keith’s given him absolutely zero explanation for his mood. 

“It’s okay,” Shiro tells him, brushing his fingers through Keith’s hair. It’s blissful. “What can I do to help?” 

“Just… just hold me,” Keith whispers and Shiro smiles, bending down to do just that. He folds himself around Keith, cradling him. Like this, Keith always feels safe and he sighs out, looping his arms around Shiro in turn and holding him close. 

-

The next time Keith’s alone— as Shiro takes another nap— he sits in the pilot’s seat and stares at his fist. 

He knows he’s been staring at his fist for too long. Sucking in a deep breath, he lifts it to his mouth and, tentatively, tries kissing it. He’s not entirely sure how it’s supposed to work— the curl of his fingers and the press of his thumb hardly looks like a _mouth_ and without an answering body, Keith’s not sure how this is supposed to make him better. It doesn’t feel the same if there aren’t soft eyes looking back at him, a wicked smile and a devastating _baby._ It’s just Keith’s hand and despite all the many things he’s made his hand do to himself, he’s never actually tried using it for kissing practice.

He’s way out of his depth here. The first kiss to his fist is a peck at most. He feels absolutely stupid and he half-expects Shiro to materialize at his side to ask him what he’s doing just to add salt to the proverbial wound. 

Thankfully, the universe has some mercy on Keith and lets his boyfriend sleep, never to be witness to such a pathetic display. 

Keith sticks his tongue into the curled hole of his fist and wrinkles his nose. “Ugh.” He drops his hand from his mouth, blushing. “This is so fucking stupid.” 

Black hums gently in the back of his mind as he returns both hands to her controls, goading her onward. He blushes deeper, hating to think that somehow even _Black_ has something to say about his kissing abilities and promptly slams up the walls of his mind. He feels the distinct impression of her huffing and withdrawing. 

Glancing over his shoulder, just to make sure Shiro’s not about to appear, Keith punches the visual controls and summons a private channel with Red. “Hey.” 

“What’s up?” Lance asks a moment later, the viewscreen popping open to Lance’s face. 

Keith takes a deep breath, opening up a camera view of Black’s cargo bay just to confirm that Shiro is there and not about to walk in on this conversation. He glances at Lance warily and lets out in a rush: “How do I get better at kissing?” 

Lance blinks at him in surprise and then his expression turns sly. Keith’s prepared to die a long, slow death because he’s broached this topic, but Lance looks downright smug. It’s the absolute worst.

“You’re right to come to me,” Lance says, far too sagely. “I knew you would eventually.” 

“Don’t make me regret this.” 

Lance shrugs, seemingly unconcerned. He knows he can outrun Black with Red, but Keith can only hope that if push comes to shove, Red might have enough loyalty to him to go purposefully slow so Keith can murder Lance instead. 

“Could you just tell me how to get better?” 

Lance at least has the decency to look apologetic. “Like I said before, your best bet is to just… practice, right?” 

Keith ducks his head, sighing. 

“And switch it up,” Lance says. “Don’t go all tongue all the time. But don’t be a prude, either. Keep those lips open! But don’t swirl the tongue around like a washing machine, either. You gotta do a variety! Keep him guessing! Follow his lead!” 

Keith groans, glancing again at the camera view of the cargo bay. Shiro’s still napping, thank goodness. 

“I mean… that’s what I thought I was doing?” 

It’s too many suggestions to keep in mind. Before, it just felt natural— sinking into Shiro’s chest and swallowing his breathless little sighs, just wrapped up in Shiro and _happy_. Now all he can think about is his apparently wild tongue action and his stupid, clumsy hands. 

He rubs at his cheek absently, feeling it burning a bright red. 

“I mean… you could also just, you know, talk to Shiro. Isn’t he always looking to help people be their best selves? I’m sure he’d teach you.”

“Lance, that’s embarrassing! I’m not— I’m not asking my boyfriend how to kiss him!” Keith squeaks. 

“Aww, you called him your boyfriend,” Lance coos. 

“Goodbye, Lance.”

Keith slams the disconnect button and the viewscreen for Lance winks out, leaving Keith in a stewing, embarrassed silence. He slumps forward, chin on his hand, and stares at the open camera view of a slumbering Shiro. Fuck, he’s attractive and adorable even when he’s sleeping. Keith still can’t really believe that Shiro’s here, with him, letting him get kissed by a mediocre kisser. 

Lance is no help aside from a pot-stirrer. Keith _knows_ he’s going to have to actually bring it up with Shiro if he wants to get any peace— and it’s not as if Keith wants to keep things from him— but the idea of talking about it is downright mortifying. 

-

“Morning, baby,” Shiro murmurs the next day, leaning in to kiss Keith. 

Keith grunts, blinking his eyes open with a quick, “I have morning breath.” 

Just another thing he’s probably really, really bad at on the kissing front. Who wants to kiss someone who tastes like death warmed over? 

But Shiro just shrugs, smiling down at him dreamily. “I don’t care,” he whispers before leaning in for another kiss. “Come here, beautiful.” 

Keith does _not_ let out a pathetic whimper at that, unable to resist leaning up to kiss him more deeply. He’s always going to be weak to Shiro calling him things. He’s always going to be weak to _Shiro._

Fuck, where should he put his hands? They hover in the air stupidly, tentatively touching Shiro’s neck before skittering down to his shoulders. Nothing feels right. 

Keith breaks the kiss far too soon, turning is face away with a frustrated sigh, sinking his cheek down against his pillow. He can feel Shiro studying him with an assessing gaze. Keith feels himself blushing. He _knows_ he’s going to have to say something, but god, he is not looking forward to this conversation. 

He doesn’t know what’s worse— that Shiro would pretend nothing’s wrong or that Shiro would admit that Lance’s suspicions are correct. 

“Keith,” Shiro whispers. 

Keith closes his eyes to steel himself. Before Shiro can say anything more, Keith sits up. He tugs gently on Shiro’s shoulder until he sits up, too, and they’re facing each other. Keith wriggles, his heart beating hard in his chest as he tucks his legs beneath him. 

Shiro’s patient, crossing his legs and tilting his head at him, a silent invitation for Keith to speak. He’s so kind. He’s too good. 

Keith casts Shiro a look that he’s sure is a mix between sappy and heartbroken. Shiro makes a quiet sound in the back of his throat, hand lifting to touch Keith’s shoulder. The familiar weight is a comfort. Shiro’s big palm is heavy on Keith’s shoulder, resting there, and giving one tentative squeeze. 

“Keith, what’s going on?” Shiro asks. “You’ve had something on your mind for the last couple days. Can I help?” 

Shiro is so kind. So gentle and sweet and supportive. He deserves a good kisser for a boyfriend. 

There’s no sense in putting this off, in the end. The last thing Keith wants to do is make Shiro feel guilty or miserable. He sucks in a deep breath and just pushes forward. 

“Am I a bad kisser?” Keith asks in a rush. 

This is likely not what Shiro expected him to say. He blinks at Keith once, bemused. “What?” 

“Lance says I’m a bad kisser.” 

Shiro cracks a smile, although he looks like he’s trying not to laugh in Keith’s face, if only for his benefit. Keith appreciates the thoughtfulness. 

Still, he absolutely cannot make eye contact with Shiro. He studies his hands in his lap, clutched together tight enough that he’s gone white-knuckled. 

“And how would Lance know that?” Shiro asks, unable to disguise the amusement in his voice. 

Which, fair. Keith blushes, ducking his head further, letting his hair fall into a protective curtain over his face. “He’s heard and seen us.” 

“Babe,” Shiro says, gently, “I mean this kindly… but what does Lance know? I’d be genuinely shocked if he’s ever been kissed.” 

That, at least, gets Keith to smile, too, if only briefly. He sighs, shaking his head, and steels himself. He takes a few deep breaths before he dares to look back up at Shiro. 

Tentatively, knowing he sounds pathetic, he elaborates, “He says I’m all tongue.” 

Shiro smiles more, something sparkling in his eyes. With perfect seriousness and earnestness, he says, “I love your tongue.” 

Keith scoffs, blushing, and ducks his head again to hide his smile. He doesn’t think Shiro’s just saying that— and it’s a reassurance to hear, even if it doesn’t assuage all his fears. There’s still the possibility that Shiro’s just wanting to make him feel better.

“Do I use too much of it, though?” he asks. “He said your chin was wet one time.” 

Shiro frowns, touching his chin as if to trigger a muscle memory. He looks a little wondering, though, more than anything else. 

“You’d tell me, right?” Keith presses. “If I was bad, you’d tell me?” 

He stares up at Shiro, pleadingly. He watches Shiro blink at him, his fingers curling against his chin. His eyes look a little faraway and Keith fears the worst. But, a moment later, Shiro returns to himself with a small shake of his head and a tiny smile. 

“Keith,” he says, quietly. 

He reaches for Keith, then. Tentatively, giving Keith enough time to pull away if he wants. When Keith doesn’t, Shiro’s hand cups Keith’s cheek, his thumb swiping along the edge of his scar. 

“Keith,” Shiro says again. “I _love _kissing you. I would even if you were awful at it.” 

Keith pouts. He can’t help it. His insides feel all squirmy from that smile but it’s still not enough of a reassurance— Keith could still be an awful kisser. Shiro deserves the world’s best kisser. 

“That doesn’t answer my question, Shiro.” 

Shiro frowns, thinking it over. Keith stares at him and knows that, maybe, he’s getting a little too intense— but he can’t help it. 

Thoughtfully, Shiro says, “… I guess you do use your tongue a lot. And you bite a lot.” 

Immediately, Keith wilts, shying away from the touch on his cheek. He might actually flinch. “Fuck. I’m sorry, I—” 

“Wait, Keith,” Shiro protests, reaching to curl his hand in Keith’s hair, just the spark of possessiveness that leaves Keith shivering. “That’s not what I meant.” He drags his thumb along the back of Keith’s neck, smiling when Keith shudders. “God, Keith,” Shiro whispers. “You have no idea what you do to me.” 

Keith grunts, frowning. He feels about ready to run from the Lion and camp out in Yellow until he dies or something. Just leave him to his unkissable agony. 

“I’m serious,” Shiro insists. 

Keith glance at him, disbelieving. 

But Shiro shakes his head, looking wondering. “You have _fangs._ It’s so damn hot when you bite me. God, you look at me and your eyes go all dark and catlike and… you look like you want to eat me up and it’s… it’s so hot, Keith.” 

Keith’s mouth falls open. He’s full on gaping. He can’t really help that, either. “_What?_ Lance says I lick your face.” 

Shiro hums, considering, and shrugs. “Yeah, I guess you do? It’s hot.” 

“Apparently it’s objectively not hot,” Keith mutters. 

Shiro regards him. Then, leaning forward, he licks Keith’s mouth, dragging his tongue from the tip of his chin to the bottom of his nose. Keith _should_ find it utterly disgusting and stupid, but as is the case with most things Shiro does, it just leaves Keith vaguely turned on and overwhelmingly in love. 

“Shiro,” he mutters, half a protest and half a question. 

Shiro cups his chin and leans in, kissing him. “I think you’re perfect,” Shiro whispers once he draws away just a breath between them, his mouth brushing against his as he speaks. “Who cares how it’s _supposed_ to be? I love kissing you, Keith. I could do it forever.” 

That pulls a laugh from Keith, soft and overwhelmed. “Yeah? I think that about you.” 

“So I don’t see a problem,” Shiro assures him, smiling against his mouth as he leans in, nose bumping his. “I like the way you kiss me.” 

Keith shivers and whispers out a quiet, wobbly, “Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Shiro answers. “And I _definitely_ know better than Lance.” 

Keith can’t help but stare, overwhelmed by the idea that Shiro could be as affected by kissing as Keith is. That, somehow, Shiro could feel overwhelmed by _Keith._

It’s too strange to even fathom. 

Keith curls his arms around Shiro’s shoulders, pulling him in close. He’s a little nervous as he watches Shiro’s eyes close just before their mouths connect. But as soon as Shiro starts kissing Keith, all thought leaves Keith— he doesn’t have to think. He just sighs into his kiss and sucks Shiro’s tongue into his mouth. Maybe there’s too much tongue. Maybe Shiro’s chin is a little damp when he’s finished kissing him. Maybe he just can’t, ever, ever fucking get enough of Shiro. But if Shiro doesn’t care, then that’s what matters. If Shiro _likes it_, then that’s what matters. 

“I do promise I’ll get better,” Keith murmurs. He brushes his mouth over Shiro’s. “If I have a willing partner to practice with.”

Feeling bold, he bites down on Shiro’s bottom lip. Hard. Shiro gasps— and Keith knows there’s no way Shiro can fake how breathless he sounds. 

Shiro groans into the kiss, breaking away enough to nuzzle at his jaw. “Oh, definitely, always happy to help, sweetheart.” 

A flood of affection pools in Keith’s chest. “Shiro…” 

“Yeah,” Shiro whispers, staring into Keith’s eyes. “That’s the look I meant. So hot.” 

Keith growls and dives at Shiro. He’s sure it’s a stupidly bad kiss, a stupid idea to try to kiss Shiro when he’s grinning, but Keith doesn’t care. His lips hit Shiro’s teeth and it doesn’t matter. Shiro sighs and presses closer, smiling through the entire kiss, even when Keith starts licking and biting. Shiro cups the back of his head and pulls him in closer still, deepening the kiss until it really does go messy and sloppy. Keith cups Shiro’s face and pulls him in closer, each breath he takes a promise of devotion to this wonderful, perfect man. 

And it’s a perfect kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject) (including the [LLF Comment Builder](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/commentbuilder)), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates responses, including:
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